Unlikely
by Coldpockets
Summary: Series of drabbles focused mostly on unrequited ZukoAang. Some past pairings of another nature. Mostly mild. Spoilers.
1. I : The Gift of Kindness

Title : The Gift of Kindness

Word count : 298

Rating : K+

Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters herein contained. I own the plot and nothing else.

I've been on a huge Avatar kick lately. Zuko is my absolute favorite character, followed by Iroh. I like everybody else enough, but they're my favourites. I was exploring Zuko's motives at the end of the series, though I haven't actually fully finished the last episode. But there you have it. I was thinking that maybe Zuko was won over by the kindness Aang shows him, and his incredible ambiguity could easily mean he could fall in love with Aang. I don't believe in twisting Aang's character so that love is returned, and hence the angst. This is one pairing I am set on. Sadly, it's onesided, but I love them anyway.

* * *

It wasn't that Zuko was—No. it wasn't that at all. But really, could he, the boy who had only known the love of another once in his life resist the kindness so effortlessly given to him? He could no more resist than a bird resist flying, or a fish swimming. He even reached back, in his own sick and twisted way. He loved. Not as Azula loved—harsh admiration and disgusting adoration. Not as his father loved—manipulation through pretend attachment and need. He loved as his uncle loved—simply and gratefully, glad to be given such a chance. He felt his anger wash away under the pure force of that fabled emotion he had lost hope of ever experiencing. Familial love was very different, after all, from—Acceptance and friendship, though freely given by one, had to be earned from others. And so he reached even further, all for the sake of a fleeting glimpse of an emotion he wasn't sure he could feel. He stretched, humbled himself, tried and tried and tried and _connected_. And he loved all the more deeply, day by day by day, however few they numbered. But with this, too, came another feeling. And thus, they day Zuko broke out of himself, the self his father and grandfather had so carefully molded, he learned both love and heartbreak. He would never love him back, could never love him back. He would never know how deeply his kindness and happiness and courage had touched Zuko; and thus, never, ever know that guilt associated with breaking the most precious thing of another's. But Zuko was glad all the same. He had known love, even if it was just once. And because of that gift, he would follow the Avatar, even to his death.


	2. II : Through Her Eyes

Title : Through Her Eyes

Word Count : 314

Rating : K+

Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters herein contained. I only own the text.

More angst (pronounced ankh-st, XD). I can write other things, I think, but this is all I have typed up. Something I wrote when I was bored after watching the Boiling Rock episode. I felt incredibly sorry for Mai. Really. She's so in love with Zuko, and I think he cares for her, I really do, but he doesn't _choose_ her. Perhaps a continuation of the last drabble, The Gift of Kindness, (I have a tendency toward lame titles, clearly) but I didn't write it that way necessarily.

* * *

Mai, when she sees Zuko at the Boiling Rock, knows once and for all that she has lost him. She came in the hopes of gaining explanation, but also persuading him to stay with her. She loved him, even after getting his letter—note, really—saying that he cannot stay. But there, in his eyes, behind the defiance and sympathy and care, there is love. So deep, she doesn't know if he even knows that his heart has admitted another person. Not her. She could guess who, if she wanted to torture herself: the girl that despises him is a choice—he has always been masochistic. The earth bender is strong and disdainful of everyone equally—Zuko could certainly find comfort in the similar attitudes. Mai doesn't want to think further, but being a prisoner in her own mind, she is presented with other choices: Zuko has never been particularly interested in sex, but he isn't discerning either. The brother, a fighter to the end in a comedic and simple way could be it—Zuko himself is a fighter, and is perhaps drawn to the kindred spirit. The Avatar is one Mai almost wants to rule out for being ridiculous, but he is kind and generous enough for it to be plausible that Zuko is drawn to the unfamiliarity of such emotions. But whoever it is—she absolutely refuses to narrow the list down to one name, for fear that it will be the Avatar—has changed Zuko, consciously or not. He has become more noble, stronger and even kinder. She hopes he can change the world as the determination in his eyes proclaims. Later, when they are escaping, she holds this hope close to her broken heart, nursing it and simultaneously worsening it by fighting for his escape from her. But the world free of Ozai is worth one, just one, broken heart.


	3. III : Alone Among the Sleeping

Title: Alone Among the Sleeping  
Word Count: 440  
Rating: K+, for language.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein contained. I only own the text.

So I know that in the Avatar universe, they probably don't have any expletives. Whatever. So more angst, since this is a collection of angsty drabbles. Inspired by the song _Dear Angel_, by April Sixth.

* * *

_I love you_, he whispers to the darkness. It is warm and comforting, but it doesn't whisper back. _I love you so fucking much. How the hell was I supposed to avoid it? Huh? How do you think I could have not fallen in love with you?_ A soft grunt from behind him is the only response he receives. Accordingly, he is silent, running a hand through his messy hair exasperatedly, leaning his elbow on his knees. He glances quickly over his shoulder up at the bed, where the quiet sounds of rest are being emitted at a steady rate. He looks back down and tangles his fingers in his hair again, his palm resting against his temple. He glares at the floor for a while before his gaze fills with desperation and despair, and he has to blink away tears.

_Fuck you_, he mutters, voice hoarse. _Fuck you all and your perfect relationship and the fuckers who love you together_.

He sighs and stretches his legs out, leaning his head back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Unsurprisingly, no advice comes from that quarter. His uncle's voice, however, begins to echo in his head, saying something about 'grasping love when it is offered'—some bullshit he didn't listen to at the time and doesn't listen to now. Love could go up against the Fire Lord tied up and naked, for all he cared. And maybe blindfolded too.

He snarls softly, trying to stop the tears again. He can't remember the last time he cried—well, he can, but he tries not to—and he will not now. Not even in face of the worst pain he thinks exists_. I love you_, he whispers again, more brokenly. The person in bed shifts and rolls over. He gets up slowly, looking both lovingly and angrily down at the other person. _I could kiss you right now_, he muses_. It would be so easy, just to mark you as mine forever_. But his soul, heart, fucking _morality_ saves the other, and he settles for closing his eyes and leaning close. They are only an inch away, and he can feel their breath mingling. And that, he knows, it the most he will ever get.

Resignedly, he moves away, and straightens. _I will not cry. I will not love. I will not hurt him_. It becomes his mantra, as he devotes his energies completely to a cause not truly his own and an end he cannot have a happy part in. And at the end of it all, he's still alone.

_I will not cry_, his voice echoes around his empty shell.


	4. IV : The Ember Island Players

Title: The Ember Island Players  
Word Count: 443  
Rating: K  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein contained. I only own the text.

So...written while watching the episode, The Ember Island Players. Kind of meant to be a companion piece to the episode, sort of. Anyway, recently finally finished the series. Fell back in love with it, actually. Seriously. Wondered where to publish this, considering Unlikely is meant to be for unrequited ZukoAang, but I guess I'll just have to change it. Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

The night they see the play starts out dismally. Aang is sure that Fate herself is laughing at him. He cannot sit next to Katara—though he thinks Zuko has done this on purpose, the spark in his eye daring the Avatar to say he likes Katara better than Zuko. Then, he turns out to be played by a woman—Zuko struggles not to chuckle next to him, but he can feel the boy shaking softly—which only worsens his mood. He scowls even more deeply as Toph laughs and tells him how accurate the portrayal is, slumping over the railing. He feels slightly better as he feels Zuko's warm hand on his thigh, lending comfort.

The play, however, is quickly revealed to be a complete mockery of their lives. The only point of amusement is when the blue spirit shows up, defeating Zuko. He shoots a disgusted look at Zuko, but it morphs into a grin at the sheer inaccuracy. Zuko winks at him, then turns his attention back to the play.

After the intermission, it gets slightly better with the introduction of Toph, but quickly deteriorates again. Zuko's hand finds his thigh again, but it doesn't help very much. Aang sighs as the play casts shadows on his uncertainty about his feelings for Katara. Zuko moves away from him then, scowling. Though he and Zuko had been kissing for a couple of weeks, ever since their excursion to the Sun Warriors, Aang still wasn't sure whether he liked Zuko or Katara better, or whether how he felt about them was even comparable. He storms out, confused.

He isn't sure whether he's relieved when Katara is the one who comes after him, isn't sure whether he's angry about what happened in the play because of Katara or Zuko. But most of all, he isn't sure whether he prefers Zuko's hot, dry lips or Katara's cool, soft ones. He doesn't watch very much of the rest of the play, choosing instead to think and listen the others laugh and groan. The death of Zuko surprises him, but not as much as his own. He sighs, the anxiety about defeating the firelord multiplied a hundredfold as he watches the triumph of Ozai onstage. They leave the theater somberly, all caught up in their own thoughts. Zuko is being mysterious again, brooding.

"That…wasn't a good play," he says disgustedly.

"Tell me about it," Aang mutters. _Confused? What does confused mean?_ He thinks. Katara stays behind him, Zuko in front. It's only a few steps either way, but he can't decide which way. When Zuko kisses him right before bed, he still can't choose.


End file.
